The pucker meant something deeper.
"Of course I should like to understand what your views are," he said at last, throwing away one cigarette, and lighting another.
Helena's look kindled.

She looked handsomer and more maenad-like than ever, as she stood leaning against Buntingford's writing-table, her arms folded, one slim foot crossed over the other.
"The gist of them is," she said eagerly, "that _we_--the women of the present day--are not going to accept our principles--moral--or political--or economic--on anybody's authority.

You seem, Cousin Philip, in my case at any rate, to divide the world into two sets of people, moral and immoral, good and bad--desirable and undesirable--that kind of thing! And you expect me to know the one set, and ignore the other set.
Well, we don't see it that way at all.

We think that everybody is a pretty mixed lot.

I know I am myself.